Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
It was past eight in the morning.
Winter sunlight still hadn’t touched Fiorentina’s training ground.
But one figure had been running across that pitch for a long time already.
Montella arrived thinking he’d come early today.
Instead, just like the last two days, he was the second one there.
“Ethan, early again?”
“I remember you stayed late after training yesterday too, didn’t you?”
“Hard work is a rare quality in a professional.
But you have to protect your body.
Get enough rest.”
His words were cautionary, but the satisfied look on his face was easy to read.
Ethan’s diligence pleased him.
Deeply.
Montella had made a point of coming earlier today.
Still not early enough.
And judging by how much Ethan was sweating, the kid had been out here for a while.
He’d arrived well before dawn.
“Thanks, Coach.
I feel fine, though.”
Ethan wasn’t putting on an act.
He pushed himself hard because he genuinely wanted to improve, and fast.
His first life had left too many regrets in football.
He’d never reached the heights he believed he could.
Now he had a second life, a fresh start to his career.
What reason did he have not to give it everything?
And on a deeper level, after all the injuries that had tortured his body in that first life, just being able to run freely on the grass again, healthy, drenched in sweat, felt like a pleasure he’d been denied for far too long.
Other players might see training as physical torment.
To Ethan, the chance to train on this pitch at all was already the greatest gift he could ask for.
“The head chef, Victor, mentioned that Ethan finished breakfast at seven and came straight out to train.”
Captain Pasqual walked onto the pitch.
“Ethan, Victor asked me to tell you he hasn’t seen a young player this hardworking at Fiorentina in a long time.”
“He also said you ate two full plates of his ragù this morning.
Cleaned them completely.
He was very happy.”
Ethan laughed.
“Compared to the culinary wasteland of England, Italian food is clearly superior.”
“These last few days at Fiorentina, I haven’t missed a single meal Victor’s prepared.”
“The only thing that might compare is my father’s Chinese cooking.”
As an Italian, Pasqual took the compliment to his country’s cuisine with obvious satisfaction.
But he grinned and warned, “Never mention Chinese food in front of Victor. This chapter is updated first at g.com.
He’s a former Michelin chef.
Lost a cooking competition to a Chinese chef once and still hasn’t gotten over it.”
By 8:50, most of the Fiorentina squad began trickling onto the training ground, right on the deadline.
Montella’s face was stone.
He stared coldly at the players clocking in.
Everyone felt the tension.
They quietly lined up, careful with every step.
The moment they were in formation, Montella let loose.
“Look at yourselves.
Veteran players, and not one of you shows up with the right attitude on a training day.”
“Arriving at the last minute, leaving at the first.
You think this is a punch-clock job?”
“Let me tell you something.
Since reporting back, Ethan has been the first one on this pitch every single day, and the last one off.”
“Not one of you senior players sets an example.
Your training intensity is worse than a sixteen-year-old’s.
You need to take a hard look at yourselves.”
Cuadrado, never one to hold his tongue, muttered to the player beside him, “Ethan’s Chinese.
Everyone knows Chinese people are born hardworking and obsessive.”
“How are we supposed to compete with that?”
“Cuadrado!
What are you mumbling about over there?” Montella snapped.
Cuadrado cleared his throat.
“I said, Coach is absolutely right.”
“Ethan has talent and work ethic.
Every veteran here should learn from him.”
Montella grunted.
His expression turned grave as he addressed the whole team.
“I don’t want to lecture you on every little detail.
But I need you to understand how serious the second half of this season is.”
“After last week’s match, we’ve been overtaken in the standings.
We’re down to eighth.”
“Our target this season is at least top four.
We need to secure European football for next year.”
“The teams we’re chasing, especially the strong sides at the top of the table, are all formidable.
Locking down a top-four spot won’t be easy.”
“And you know we’re still in the Europa League.”
“Add the Coppa Italia, and we’re fighting on three fronts.
With Fiorentina’s squad depth, handling that schedule is brutally difficult.”
“That’s why I need one hundred percent from every single one of you.
That’s the only way we get through this.”
His words lit a fire.
When training resumed, the players threw themselves into it with real intensity.
Watching the squad’s renewed energy, Montella finally nodded.
The sun sank low.
The day’s training came to an end.
“The day after tomorrow is Serie A Round 20.
It’s an away match.
As usual, we travel tomorrow afternoon to adapt to the pitch.
Now I’ll read out the eighteen-man squad for this match.”
“Goalkeepers: Neto, Rosati, Lupatelli.”
“Forwards: Mario Gomez, Cuadrado, Gilardino, Salah, Joaquín, Bernardeschi.”
“Defenders: Rodríguez, Savić, Pasqual, Marcos Alonso.”
“Midfielders: Aquilani, Pizarro, Badelj.”
“Ethan Cross.”
When Montella read Ethan’s name last, his teammates were surprised.
Then the congratulations came.
“Ethan, congratulations!
You’re in the matchday squad!”
“Making the squad this fast after arriving?
That’s not easy.”
Serie A rules required the eleven starters and seven substitutes to be submitted before the match.
Being named in the squad didn’t guarantee playing time.
But Ethan had only just arrived on loan.
Five days with the team, and he was already in the next matchday squad.
That was rare in Fiorentina’s history.
Salah had also just joined on loan, but he’d been an undisputed starter for Swiss Super League champions Basel.
After his move to Chelsea, he’d made Premier League appearances.
He had match experience and real ability.
Including him as an immediate option made perfect sense.
Ethan was a sixteen-year-old with zero professional experience.
By comparison, making the squad was far more remarkable.
Montella watched Ethan with a meaningful look.
He hadn’t put Ethan in the squad on a whim.
A player with Ethan’s astonishing passing talent held immense tactical value for any coach.
Leaving that kind of weapon out of the matchday squad would be a waste.
And more crucially, from the very first day Ethan arrived at Fiorentina, Montella had sensed something else.
The hunger and obsession for football that radiated from the kid.
It sometimes made Montella pause.
It wasn’t the kind of hunger a sixteen-year-old should have.
On the pitch, that hunger could easily transform into a relentless pursuit of victory.
Montella understood that well.
Taken together, bringing this young talent into the matchday squad was almost a necessary choice.
But to Ethan’s Fiorentina teammates, his surprise inclusion came down to one thing.
This was exactly what a hardworking, outrageously gifted talent deserved.